


any time

by youcouldmakealife



Series: but always in tandem [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 07:25:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7213273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robbie obviously wasn’t hoping Georgie would suck, because he’s not a traitor to his own team, and Georgie being awesome is good for everyone, but — </p>
<p>Robbie was kind of hoping Georgie would suck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	any time

Robbie obviously wasn’t hoping Georgie would suck, because he’s not a traitor to his own team, and Georgie being awesome is good for everyone, but — 

Robbie was kind of hoping Georgie would suck. 

It’s not like the Caps are hurting right now anyway. Georgie sucks, they send him down to Hershey, Robbie gets Whelan back, who’s a fine partner and holds down the fort well with him, Robbie doesn’t want to throw up in his mouth! Everything’s dandy.

They play so fucking great together. Robbie isn’t surprised, he’s just. They play _so_ fucking great together.

Georgie gets his first goal in his second game, one of those one-timers that everyone was scared as shit of in NCAA, and for good reason. Robbie served him the pass — it was a perfect tape to tape, like, they could give a _clinic_ on it perfect — and they’re now up by two. Which is obviously great. Robbie’s not going to begrudge _his own team_ a goal, what the fuck. He maybe doesn’t go over to Georgie as fast as everyone else, but he joins the goal celebration huddle eventually, so it’s not like it fucking matters. 

After the game Quincy makes noises about going out to celebrate the win, to celebrate Georgie’s first goal with the team, and Robbie can’t fucking duck out. Quincy’s been giving him looks he really doesn’t want to fucking deal with, and it’s best not to lay fuel on that fire, best to shut that shit show of a conversation down before it starts. Quincy’s already kind of obliquely brought it up, along with two members of coaching staff, Whelan, Matthews, and Salonen, and Robbie would just really like not being asked about his fucking bastard of an ex-boyfriend for one fucking second, considering he can’t actually answer with the truth, so whatever he says makes him sound petty or stupid. 

Fuck that noise.

It’s not like it matters to anyone but Quincy and his penetrating looks if Robbie’s there anyway. Within five minutes Georgie’s managed to find the first pretty girl in the place, has started the whole Dineen charm bullshit, so within the hour he’ll be nailing her in the bathroom, or, because this is the kind of place that seems like it’d frown on that bullshit, bringing her back to the hotel. Robbie doesn’t particularly want to watch that shit for the thousandth time, the slow inching closer, the hand on the waist, that fucking constant grin. It’s worse now that he knows what it’s like to be on the other end of it, though it’s not like Georgie had to try particularly hard with him. Not like Georgie has to try particularly hard with anyone, honestly, but Georgie probably knew he had Robbie in the bag from the get-go.

Robbie doesn’t want to be thinking about this. Robbie’s been really good at not thinking about this the last few years, at cutting that line of thought off as soon as it starts, but it’s not exactly easy when if he looks to his left he can see Georgie once again charming the panties off someone. Robbie wonders if Georgie has a girlfriend right now, a boyfriend. Supposes it doesn’t make a fucking difference either way, to Robbie or to Georgie’s likelihood of getting laid tonight.

“I’m tired,” Robbie says after he finishes his first beer, figures he showed up, he did his D-partnery duty, what the fuck ever. Not that Georgie gives half a shit: he’s obviously busy. “I’m going to head back.”

He accepts the inevitable teasing as his due, because seriously, they’ve been here like half an hour, Robbie is aware how weaksauce that shit looks, hands Quincy a ten so he can settle him up. 

“I’ll come too,” Chaps says, which isn’t exactly surprising, considering he’s hardly what you’d call a party animal. Robbie doesn’t really want anyone around right now, but what’s he going to do, say ‘no, wait five minutes, you are not invited to walk back to the hotel with me because my ex is picking up like five feet away and I am _not_ in the mood to deal with anyone’? He doesn’t think that’s going to fly. Kurmazov looks dubiously between Robbie and David when they get ready to go, so at least someone noticed the fact that Robbie would really prefer not to have a shadow right now, but he doesn’t say anything, which is great. Just super.

Chaps is quiet when they leave, is a pretty quiet dude in general, and Robbie hopes for one beautiful minute that they will walk in silence, and then say good night and go their separate ways, and Robbie won’t have to deal with one extra heaping of bullshit on a shit-filled day.

“Did Dineen do something?” Chapman asks, right on cue, because just. Fuck everything. Fuck absolutely everything in Robbie’s life right now.

“Oh good, even the robot notices,” Robbie snaps before he can help himself.

“Excuse me?” Chapman says, sounding startled, because of fucking course he does, he had no idea Robbie didn’t want that question because he doesn’t understand socialization like a _human_.

“Can I go a fucking minute without getting that question?” Robbie asks. “Like, fuck, how much is that to ask? How many ‘don’t fucking ask’ vibes does it take?”

“I’m sorry?” Chapman says, knee-jerk polite Canadian bullshit, and Robbie just does not have the fucking energy for this shit, keeps walking toward the hotel and hopes to _God_ Chapman’s smart enough not to follow because Robbie’s like twenty seconds away from bursting into tears like a fucking pussy or throwing a punch, and he likes Chapman, so he’d rather not subject him to that shit.

Robbie feels massively shitty once he gets back to his room, because Chaps was just the millionth caller: here’s your prize, it’s Robbie Lombardi yelling at you in a massive overreaction. His heart’s beating fast like he’s been running, like he’s been on the ice, feels overheated and miserable, and Robbie just…hates fucking everything, decides it’s more than fair to give himself an early night.

Of course he ends up glaring at the bland white ceiling of the hotel room he shares with Matthews, alternating that with glaring at Matthews when he arrives an hour later only to start peacefully snoring two minutes after that, the bastard. He falls asleep long after he usually would, and when his alarm starts yelping at him, he figures he’s due for a fucking snooze.

He misses breakfast, but it was optional and Matty grabbed him a bagel and a coffee, so he’s mostly forgiven for being able to sleep so peacefully. Robbie feels hungover even though he drank one beer. Maybe he’s just tired. Whatever it is, it fucking sucks. He packs efficiently, bagel in mouth, dirty clothes in hand, and somehow ends up ahead of schedule despite sleeping in, so maybe he should consider the snooze button more often. Probably not.

When Robbie gets down to wait for the charter David’s already there because of course he is, looks over at Robbie, skittish, like Robbie’s about to yell at him again, and then studiously looks at his shoes. Robbie’s argued a hundred times with teammates, and usually there’s a mutual ‘hey, forgotten’ the next morning, because that’s the kind of shit you need to do to keep a team running smooth, but Robbie guesses Chaps isn’t the ‘hey, forget about it’ type, and Robbie can’t really say he’s surprised. 

Robbie walks over before the place can fill and Chaps can hide behind his Russian dad, because Robbie needs to apologize, feels massively shitty about things, and he’d sure as shit fumble that one with Kurmazov judgmentally staring at him, so. 

“David,” Robbie says, and David’s head snaps up.

“Um,” David says. “Hi, I’m—”

Of course he’s about to apologize. Of _course_ he is. He accidentally nails the one thing that could make Robbie feel like an even shittier person. 

“I’m really sorry,” Robbie says, before David can apologize for like — bearing the brunt of Robbie’s shitty day by asking what he thought was an innocent question? Fucking Canadians and their apologies, they could probably weaponize ‘sorry’ as a surefire way of making people feel shitty.

David instead looks surprised, which is…also great at making Robbie feel like shit! And means he kind of stumbles through his apology and calls him a robot at least four more times, but like…in a nice way he hopes. Chaps is laughing at the end of it, at least, and he’s got one killer straight face he uses basically constantly, so laughter is a good sign. Robbie’s feeling better, feeling good, honestly, but then Georgie shows up, looking…Georgie like…and there goes Robbie’s morning.

“If he did anything—” David says, then stops himself, looking like he wants to die, because Robbie bets he thinks Robbie’s going to bite his head off again for daring to look out for him. Poor kid. Robbie’s an asshole. Robbie knows this.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” Robbie says. “It’s my shit, I’ve got it handled.”

“If you’re sure,” David says, sounding skeptical.

“I’m sure,” Robbie says. “But thanks.”

“Any time,” David says, and Robbie thinks that’s call for one of those fist bumps David acts dubious about but always ends up going along with, because that’s bros right there.

*

Georgie gets a girlfriend in November, and Robbie would have assumed that would have shut down the whole…fucking everyone with tits thing. Like, obviously he’s nailing her on the regular, and she’s been worming her way into every night out they’ve had, even what was ostensibly supposed to be a Georgie and Robbie on the town night, and became, instead, a Georgie and Robbie oh and Jessica night on the town, which was just great. Super fun times.

Robbie’s sure she’s a nice girl — she’s boring as hell but like, there’s got to be something to her other than her being hot if Georgie didn’t pull the fuck and drop he usually does. Maybe she’s different when it’s just her and Georgie. Maybe she’s baller in bed or something, or lets Georgie do something most girls won’t, Robbie doesn’t know, Robbie doesn’t want to know, it’s none of Robbie’s fucking business. Georgie’s not ditching when they’re out to go get his dick wet like he usually does, but he spends more than half his attention on Jessica every time they go out, or she gets pouty, and honestly, it’s kind of a toss up which Robbie would prefer. 

They head out of town, and Georgie spends the first night flirting with everyone in the bar, practically, including half the fucking team in that joking way he’s got down pat, but it’s all pretty innocent, and asking Georgie not to flirt is probably like asking Robbie to quit using sarcasm: it’s just the way they communicate, tough shit getting them to quit. Taken Georgie seems a lot like single Georgie minus the hooking up part at the end. Jessica probably wouldn’t approve of the flirting, but whatever, she’s not here and it’s not like there’s any harm in it.

Second night he’s apparently given up on socks or do not disturbs or fucking privacy, because Robbie comes back to their room and opens the door on Georgie fucking a girl doggy style, so that’s…cool.

“Jesus _Christ_ , Georgie,” Robbie shouts, and slams the door behind him for emphasis. 

Lee pokes his head out of the door opposite. “I miss a prank?” he asks, sounding hopeful about it.

“You missed Georgie not bothering to tell me I was going to be a voyeur,” Robbie says, raising his voice at the end and hoping, spiteful, that he’s totally killed the mood, because wow is that not cool.

“Was it —” Lee says, making a jerk off motion, “Or—”. Robbie cannot unsee the hip thrust.

“Dude, masturbation, copulation, they are not scary words,” Robbie says. 

“The fuck is copulation?” Lee asks. “Don’t be a prude, Robbie.”

“You’re the one who can’t say the words and _I’m_ the prude?” Robbie asks incredulously.

Georgie pokes his head out the door, and Lee disappears into his room, door slamming like he got caught at something. Lee’s a squirrelly dude. “Sorry, Robbie, I got distracted before I could throw the bolt.”

Robbie doesn’t even want to know what distraction means in this case. “Thanks for not fucking in my bed at least?” Robbie says. 

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Georgie says, and Robbie rolls his eyes at him.

“You break up with Jessica or something?” Robbie asks.

“Huh?” Georgie asks. “No, why?”

Robbie loosely gestures toward their room in what he thinks is a pretty universal ‘the brunette you just had your dick in’.

“We’re not in Boston,” Georgie says. “So.”

“Oh, you got an agreement or something?” Robbie says. “Cool.”

“Nah,” Georgie says. “But like…it’s not like she’s going to find out. Besides, I’ve been dating her for three weeks, man.”

“Right,” Robbie says. “Okay, can you maybe get off and kick that chick out so I can get some sleep, dude?”

“Halfway there for you,” Georgie says with a grin, then shuts the door.

“TMI,” Robbie calls to the closed door.

*

They get back to Boston and the first fucking time they go out again, Jessica invites herself along. Or whatever, Robbie’s sure Georgie invited her, but it’s just awkward for everyone involved, so he doesn’t know why Georgie does it. 

The first time Georgie heads to the bathroom Jessica jumps on him about hooking up, and Robbie kind of wishes guys did that bathroom shit girls did, went in weird packs, because instead he’s stuck with Jessica unsubtly grilling him about whether Georgie’s fucked around, which: guess what, honey, he did, congrats! At least he used a condom!

“I mean, I hear all these stories about those puck bunnies throwing themselves at you guys, and I don’t know if I’m supposed to worry, you know?” Jessica says, with some ridiculous fake laugh at the end of it.

Robbie’s not interested in talking about the shit Georgie’s gotten up to, and he’s a shit fucking liar, but he had a teacher tell him he was good at obfuscation once, and after he looked it up, he had to agree. “Georgie’s a good guy,” Robbie says, and that’s the truth.

Jessica finds some chicks she knows outside the club on their way back to the dorms, squealing ‘I haven’t seen you in forever’, which Robbie bets means in the last week, and after Georgie and her have some quick conversation Robbie bets boils down to ‘find me later for sexual purposes’, Robbie and Georgie walk back alone.

“For the record, I had to cover for your ass when Jessica started on me about puck bunnies,” Robbie says when they’re definitely out of hearing range, “So thanks for that.”

“Sorry, man,” Georgie says. “You didn’t have to.”

Robbie rolls his eyes, because that’s obviously not true.

“Thanks,” Georgie says, throws an arm around Robbie’s shoulder, pulls him in until Robbie’s hip is knocking against his thigh, body a long hot line against Robbie’s. Robbie shouldn’t notice this. Robbie hates that he fucking notices this. Georgie has a nice bro moment with him, Robbie fucks it all up by noting every single place they’re touching like a pathetic pervert. “You’re the best.”

“Appreciate it,” Robbie says, dry.

“Trust me,” Georgie says, “I appreciate you,” and Robbie fucking hates the way everything becomes sexual if Georgie’s saying it because Robbie’s probably going to end up jerking it to that time he covered for Georgie fucking around, and that’s just kind of sad. “Thanks for having my back.”

“Any time,” Robbie says, almost automatic, then, “but don’t abuse it, asshole.”

“Wouldn’t think of it,” Georgie says, knocking against his hip, hand slipping under the collar of Robbie’s shirt as he does so, fingers brushing light over Robbie’s collarbone, the side of his neck, and yeah, Robbie’s a pathetic fucking pervert, that is officially established, because he’s going to be jerking it _hard_. He is disgusted with himself right now. “Glad I have you.”

“You too,” Robbie says, and hates how much he means it.


End file.
